Love at Center Stage: Three Theatrical Love Stories

by Janice Thompson

  “Your treatments?”

  “Forgot to mention that part, didn’t I? I drive over to Trenton for chemo two days a week. Breast cancer. I was just diagnosed about two months ago.”

  “Oh, Penny. I’m so sorry.” Tangie shook her head. “You should have told me.”

  With the wave of a hand, Penny went back to work. “I’m trying not to let it consume me. But I must warn you”—she began to look a little pale—“that sometimes my stomach doesn’t handle the chemo very well.”

  At that, she sprinted to the back room. Tangie followed along behind her, stopping at the restroom door. “You okay in there?” she called out.

  “Mm-hmm.” Penny groaned. “Nothing I haven’t been through before.” After a pause, she hollered, “Would you mind putting another batch of sugar cookies in the oven? The after-school crowd will be here in less than an hour and I’m not ready for them. The cookie dough is already rolled into balls in the walk-in refrigerator. Just put a dozen on each tray. Bake them for ten minutes.”

  “Of course.” Tangie carried on with her work, silently ushering up a prayer for Penny. Looked like she needed all the prayers she could get.

  ***

  Gregg sat at his desk, reading over the script Tangie had e-mailed. Though different from anything he would have ever chosen, he had to admit the story line was clever, and probably something the kids would really get into. He would play along, for the sake of time—and in the spirit of cooperation. But as for whether or not he would enjoy it? That was another thing altogether.

  He exhaled, releasing some of the tension of the day. In some ways, it felt like things were spinning out of control. Not that he ever had any control, really. But the illusion of having any was quickly fading. Gregg couldn’t control the things his mother was going through. He couldn’t control things with Ashley, who’d just informed him she might give her relationship with her old boyfriend another try. And he certainly couldn’t control the madness surrounding Tangie Carini and the kids’ musical.

  “Lord, what are you trying to show me here?”

  As if in response, Gregg’s gaze shifted up to the plaque on the wall, one the choir members had given him for his last birthday. He smiled as he read the familiar scripture: Finally, all of you, live in harmony with one another. 1 Pet. 3:8. He smiled as he thought about the irony. Live in harmony.

  Sometimes it was easier living in the town than living in the sort of harmonious state the scripture referred to. Still, he’d give it his best shot. God was calling him to no less.

  With a renewed sense of purpose, Gregg turned back to his work.

  NINE

  On the following Sunday afternoon, Tangie stood in the fellowship hall, preparing herself for the auditions. She placed tidy stacks of audition forms on the table, alongside freshly sharpened pencils and bottles of water for the directors. Brittany had agreed to help, thank goodness. And Gregg would take care of the vocal auditions. Yes, everything was coming together quite nicely. Now, if only they could find the right kids for each role, then all would be well.

  “Ready for the big day?”

  She turned as she heard Gregg’s voice. “Hey. Glad you’re here. I want to run this form by you before the kids arrive.”

  “What form?” Gregg drew close and glanced at the papers in her hand. “What have you got there?”

  “Oh, it’s an audition form, designed especially for today. Look.” She held one up for his inspection. “See this section at the top? Brittany and I will use this section for the drama auditions. There’s a column for characterization—does the child really look and act the part? Then there’s another for inflection, another for expression, and another for volume. It’s pretty straightforward. You’ll see a spot at the top where the child fills out his or her name, age, and prior experience on the stage.”

  “Ah ha.” He seemed to be scrutinizing the page.

  “I’ve created a separate section at the bottom for the vocal auditions,” Tangie added, pointing. “It gives you a place to comment on things like pitch, projection, harmonization skills, tone, and so forth.”

  He pursed his lips, then said, “Good idea. We could’ve used something like that when we auditioned the kids at Christmas time.”

  His words of affirmation warmed Tangie’s heart. “Did you use some sort of form for the Christmas play?”

  “No, but we should have. The whole thing was organized chaos. They were all in the room at the same time.”

  “That’s your first problem.” Tangie laughed. “It’s always better to hold auditions in a private setting, one at a time. Helps the child relax and that way they can’t copy from one another.” Tangie spoke from experience. She’d been through too many open auditions where candidates tripped all over themselves to one-up the people who’d gone before them. But none of that here. No sir.

  “I never thought of doing it this way.” Gregg shook his head. “But I’m always open to ideas. When we did the last auditions, it literally took all day. Each child wanted to audition for half a dozen parts. And then there were the would-be soloists.” He groaned. “You wouldn’t believe how many times I had to listen to Silent Night. Trust me, it wasn’t a silent night. Chaotic, yes. Silent, no.” He offered up a winsome smile and for the first time, she saw a glimmer of hope.

  “Well, here’s something I’ve learned from other shows I’ve been in,” Tangie said. “It’s best to get the music auditions over with first. That way, you can mark on the form if you think the child can handle a lead role before I ever let him or her read for a part. Then I’ll know which roles they can and can’t be considered for.”

  “Sounds like a good plan. I’ll have your grandmother bring the child’s form to you after the vocal audition. That way the kids can’t see what we’re doing.”

  Tangie nodded. “Oh, one more thing. . .” She handed him a stack of the papers. “Some of the kids probably won’t be interested in auditioning for vocal solos, so they can come straight to the drama audition. I’ve got plenty of roles to go around, and many of them aren’t singing roles.”

  “I’d still like all of the children to be in the choir, though,” he added. “We need as many voices as we can get.”

  “Well, let’s talk about that afterward, okay?” She gave him a pensive look. “Not every child is an actor, but not every child is a vocalist, either. Some aren’t crazy about singing in a group. So, why don’t we pray about that?”

  For a moment, he looked as if he might refute her. Then, just as quickly, he nodded. “I’m sure the sanctuary is about to burst at the seams with kids by now. Let’s get in there and give our instructions. Then we’ll start.”

  “Before we do, would you mind if we prayed about this?”

  “Of course not.”

  As a matter of habit, Tangie reached to take his hand. She bowed her head and ushered up a passionate prayer that the Lord’s will would be done in these auditions—that exactly the right child would get each part.

  “And, Lord,” she continued, “if there’s a child here who hasn’t come to know You, may this be the production that leads him or her to You. And for those who do know You, Father, please use these next few weeks to stir up the gifts You’ve placed in each boy and girl. Help develop them into the person they will one day be.”

  “And, Lord,” Gregg threw in, “we ask for Your will regarding the ones who don’t fit in. Show us what to do with the ones who are, well, difficult.”

  They closed out the prayer with a quick “Amen,” and Gregg’s smile warmed Tangie’s heart. “Thanks for suggesting that. I always pray with the kids before every practice, but I never thought about actually praying for the audition process before the fact.”

  “It always helps.” She shrugged. “And besides, if we ask God to be at the center of it, then—when we’re in the throes of rehearsing and things are getting rough—we can be sure that we’ve really chosen the right people for the job. We won’t be tempted to toss the baby out with the bath water.”<
br />
  He quirked a brow and she laughed.

  “I just mean we won’t be tempted to take the part away from him—or her—and give it to someone else. If we pray about this ahead of time, then we’re confident that God has special plans for that particular child in that role. See what I mean?”

  “Yes.” He nodded. “But I never really thought about it like that before. I guess I never saw this whole process as being terribly spiritual. It’s just a kids’ play.”

  “Oh no.” She shook her head. “It’s not just a kids’ play. It’s so much more than that.” Tangie was tempted to dive into a lengthy discussion, but one glance at her watch served as a reminder that dozens of kids waited in the sanctuary.

  “After you,” she said, pointing.

  He turned her way one last time, a curious expression on his face. “Before we start, I just have one question.”

  “Sure. What’s up?”

  “I just need to know. . .what are you wearing?” He pointed to her beret, which she pulled off and gripped with a smile.

  “Ah. My cap. I always wear it on audition day. It puts me in a theatrical frame of mind.”

  “Mm-hmm.” He chuckled, and they headed off together to face the energetic mob.

  ***

  Gregg looked up as Margaret Sanderson entered the choir room, a confident smile lighting her cherub-like face. She wore her hair in tight ringlets and her dress—an over-the-top frills number—convinced him she was here to do business.

  “Good to see you, Margaret. Are you ready to audition for us?” Gregg asked, trying to remain positive.

  Margaret nodded. “Oh, I am. And my mother says I should tell you that I’m interesting in trying out for the leading role.”

  “Yes, but would you be willing to take any role if you don’t get a lead?” It was a fair question, one Gregg planned to ask every child who auditioned.

  Margaret paused and bit her lip. After a second, she said, “I, well, I guess. But my mom says I have the best voice in the whole church.”

  “Ah.” Gregg stifled a laugh and looked down at his papers. “You do have a nice singing voice,” he said, “But, of course, we have to listen to everyone before making our decision.”

  He took a seat at his piano and began to play the introduction to Amazing Grace, the song he’d instructed all of the children to prepare in advance.

  Margaret interrupted him, setting a piece of music down in front of him. “I’ve brought my own audition music. I would prefer to sing it—if you don’t mind. My mother says it showcases my voice.” She belted out “The Lullaby of Broadway,” which to her credit, did sound pretty good.

  Gregg covered her form with high marks, then handed it to Tangie’s grandmother, who had agreed to run interference between the music department and the drama department.

  Next Cody arrived. His mother practically pushed him in the door. “Go on in, son. You can do this.”

  “But I don’t want to!’ He groaned, then eased his way toward the piano.

  “Lord, give me strength,” Gregg whispered. “This one tries my patience.” He turned to the youngster with a smile. “Cody, let’s hear a couple lines of ‘Amazing Grace.’ ”

  The boy groaned. “Remember we did this last time? I stink. Why do I have to do it again?”

  Gregg began to play. “Well, you’ve had some musical experience since then. Maybe there’s been some improvement.”

  Cody began to sing, just not exactly in the key Gregg happened to be playing at the moment. Looked like nothing had changed, after all. After just a few notes, Cody stopped and crossed his arms at his chest. “See what I mean? I stink.”

  “Well, I understand Miss Tangie has some drama roles that don’t require singing this time around,” Gregg said. “So why don’t you head on over to the fellowship hall and audition for her?”

  “Really? I don’t have to sing?”

  “That’s right.”

  When Gregg nodded, the youngster looked at him as if he’d just been offered an eleventh hour stay. He sprinted out of the door with more exaggerated energy.

  The next child in the room was Annabelle Lawrence. She was a sweet thing—probably eight or so—but a little on the shy side. Understandable, since her family was new to the church. As Gregg listened to her sing, he was pleasantly surprised. Nice voice. Very nice. “Have you done any performing, Annabelle?”

  She shook her head and spoke in a soft voice. “No, but I think I would like it.”

  He filled out her form, smiling. Over the two and a half hours, the kids came and went from the room. Gregg heard those who could sing, and those who couldn’t. A couple of them insisted upon rapping their audition and one sang “Amazing Grace” in Spanish. In all, the variety was pretty interesting. His favorite was a little boy named Joey who proclaimed, “I want to sing. . .real bad!” Unfortunately his audition proved that he could. Sing bad, that was.

  By the time the afternoon ended, Gregg had a much clearer picture of where they stood. Thankfully, there were some great singers in the bunch. Looked like the Easter production might just turn out okay, after all.

  ***

  Tangie scribbled note after note as the children came and went from her room. Some were better than others, naturally, but a few were absolutely darling. And, as they read the lines from the play she’d written, the words absolutely sprang to life. There was something so satisfying about hearing her words acted out.

  Not that all of the kids were actors. No, a few would be better served in smaller roles, to be sure. And a couple of the ones who could act—though good—struggled with a little too much confidence. There would be plenty of time to work on that.

  By the time the last child left, things were looking a little clearer. Yes, Tangie could almost see which child would fit which part. Now all she had to do was convince Gregg. Then. . .let the show begin!

  TEN

  After the auditions ended, Tangie sat with papers in hand, going over every note. Looked like this was going to be easier than she’d first thought. Some of the kids were obvious; others, not so much.

  She laughed as she read some of the forms. Under Prior Experience, one little boy had written I sing in the shower. One of the girls had scribbled the words, Broadway, Here I Come!

  Ah, yes. Margaret Sanderson. Tangie sighed as she looked at the youngster’s resume, complete with headshot. “She really wants the lead role something awful.”

  Awful being the key word. The little darling had pretty much insisted she get the part. That didn’t sit well with Tangie.

  She flipped through the forms until she found one for a little girl named Annabelle. Though Annabelle had no prior experience, there was something about her that had captivated Tangie right away. Her sweet expression as she read the lines. Her genuine emotion as she took on the character of the littlest sheep. Sure, she needed a bit of work. Maybe more than a bit. But Tangie always rooted for the underdog. Nothing new there. And from Gregg’s notes, she could tell the child had a wonderful singing voice.

  Tangie yawned and looked at Brittany, who laughed.

  “Had enough fun for one day?” the teen asked.

  “Mm-hmm. Don’t think I could do this for a living.” Tangie paused a moment, then added, “Oh, yeah. I already do.” A grin followed.

  “I’m still hoping you’ll think about that community theater idea,” Brittany said, her brow wrinkling as she spoke.

  Tangie sighed, not wanting to burst the teen’s bubble. How could she tell her she was thinking of leaving Harmony in April? Today wasn’t the day.

  Tangie turned her attention back to the audition forms, placing them in three stacks: To be considered for a lead. To be considered for a smaller role. To be dealt with. Thankfully, the “To be dealt with” pile was the smallest of the three. Still, it contained Cody’s form. Poor guy couldn’t sing or act, at least from what she could tell. “Lord,” she whispered, “show us where to place him. I don’t want to put him—or us—through any more agony tha
n necessary.”

  As she pondered the possibilities, Gregg entered the room, a look of exhaustion on his face.

  “How did the vocal auditions go?” she asked. “Or is that a silly question?”

  He shrugged. “Not too bad, actually. Things were a lot smoother with the forms you created. Still, if I have to hear ‘Amazing Grace’ one more time. . .” He laughed. “I just don’t know if I can take it.”

  “Any ideas about lead roles?” Tangie asked, preparing herself to show Gregg the completed audition forms. “Because I have so many thoughts rolling through my head right now.” She picked up the first stack of papers, ready to dive in.

  He looked at the papers and grinned. “I have a few ideas, but let me ask you a question first.”

  “Sure.”

  “Did you really stack those forms like that, or did someone else do it?”

  “I did it.” She shrugged. “I’m usually right-brained, but not when it comes to something like this. When it comes to the important stuff, I have all my ducks in a row.” She paused a moment, then added, “Why do you ask?”

  He shrugged. “It’s just that I’m like that. . .pretty much all the time. You should see the stacks of mail at my place.” A boyish grin lit his face. He paused a moment, then asked, “Are you hungry?”

  “Starved.” Tangie nodded, hoping her grumbling stomach wouldn’t show him just how hungry she was.

  “Want to go to the diner for some food? It’s open late and we can eat while we talk. I’ll drive, if it’s okay with you.”

  “Sounds amazing.”

  “As in ‘Amazing Grace’?”

  Tangie laughed.

  Brittany spoke up, interrupting their conversation. “Tangie, I told my mom I’d be home right after auditions. I’ve got school tomorrow.”

  “Thank you so much for your help.” Tangie smiled at the exuberant teen. “Don’t think I could’ve done it without you.”